


No Love Like Your Love

by PrettyBlueColors



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: 19th Century, Barnabas is Smitten, Biting, Blood, Blood Drinking, Bruises, Character Turned Into Vampire, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), Its the boys, Jonah is Fond, M/M, Scratching, Trans Jonah Magnus, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, but sexy, it doesnt feature much, kinda? its Hickeys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24343480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyBlueColors/pseuds/PrettyBlueColors
Summary: Jonah stumbled through the door just as day broke, bell clattering loudly from where it hung, making enough noise to alert anyone in the back. His shirt and waistcoat were soaked in the blood that dripped from the corners of his mouth and down his chin.
Relationships: Barnabas Bennett/Jonah Magnus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	No Love Like Your Love

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to Judie and Sasha Elias for betaing this for me, it means a lot to me,and Dundee for screaming when i posted snippets  
> and thank you to the Jonah and Eye horror servers for keeping me motivated by your reactions to my said snippets and your own works  
> i love yall and hope you like this!  
> title is from Hozier's Nobody!

Jonah Magnus was a strange man, but he was not a very secretive man, it seemed. He often left formal gatherings tugging a different bright young man along after himself once it was acceptable to leave each event.

Of course, when those bright young men never returned to polite society afterward… well, it wasn't anyone’s business where they went.

Barnabas Bennett was a pretty man, and he pretended not to notice, with his dark curls and bright eyes he turned more heads than most women, but he was more focused on his work than any involvement he could be worried about. 

It was a quiet evening when Barnabas first made Jonah Magnus’ acquaintance, and the bell over the door gave a quiet chime to signal a customer.

“Hello, good sir. I am seeking the tailor, are you he?” The angel of a man spoke with a clear voice that spoke of higher education.

Barnabas smiled and went to greet the man,“Ah! Yes. Barnabas Bennett.” He gave a short bow. “What service may I pay you?”

“I have been told by a dear friend of mine that you are a discreet tailor, not one to gossip, is that true?” The man spoke in a hushed tone, freckles highlighted under the candlelight, as he walked forward with purpose.

“O-of course! You do not keep many customers by gossiping about them! I do not speak to many folk nowadays, what with the work.” Barnabas waved a hand to indicate the shop, of which he was the sole occupant and, assumedly, proprietor.

“Good. Good, let us hope you stay away from the gossip mill then. I am Jonah Magnus, and I am wishing to commission some clothing. First, though, is there a private room that we can discuss in?”

That was the first of many visits Jonah paid to the shop and soon enough, Jonah started spending many of his daylight hours in the backrooms, working on his own papers.

Jonah stumbled through the door just as day broke, bell clattering loudly from where it hung, making enough noise to alert anyone in the back. His shirt and waistcoat were soaked in the blood that dripped from the corners of his mouth and down his chin.

A startled shout and the sound of something dropping to the floor drew his attention, as scattered as his focus was. 

“Jonah! Blimey, what happened to you!” Barnabas’ frantic hands patted Jonah down and tugged him to the back as soon as he locked his door.

Jonah was gently sat onto the sofa while the other man flitted about, so loud. 

Everything was loud now, god, his head hurt, and the gas lamps were so bright now. 

What had happened? 

He… he had gone for drinks and let off some steam, that’s right. He had stepped out for some air when he started getting lightheaded and woozy, and he remembers someone stumbling into him then… nothing, until he woke up alone in an alleyway that reeked of piss, so strongly he almost threw up, not far from the shop and Barnabas’ home in the back.

“Jonah? Jonah!” 

Jonah‘s eyes came back into focus on Barnabas’ worried face as the other man knelt in front of him holding a damp cloth,“There you are, love. I thought you had left me for a moment. May I clean you up?”

Jonah cleared his throat and started undoing his clothing,“Apologies, I had lost myself in thought. I would be thankful for the help.” 

Within a few minutes, Jonah was stripped down to his underclothes with Barnabas looking at him questioningly, hand toying with the ties of his lightly bloodstained modified corset, only removing it when given a short nod from the other.

Jonah shuddered under the warm hands stroking his shoulders, comforting. His head having cleared now from the shock of waking up covered in blood, the amplified effects of the world faded into the background, leaving just the quiet sounds of their breath and the gentle slide of the warm cloth wiping the blood from his skin.

After having cleaned the blood from Jonah, Barnabas sat back on his haunches and looked him over with a small smile.

Jonah reached out and took one of the other man’s hands and pressed a kiss to the palm, then the palm to his cheek,“I’m alright, dear. I am not even injured. It was just some strange occurrence I am sure.” He pressed an additional kiss to his lover’s palm.

Barnabas sighed out a laugh,” Well you can hardly blame me! What with you stumbling in covered in blood. I am glad you are not harmed.” 

Barnabas set the bloodied rag to the side and leaned forward to press a kiss to the corner of Jonah’s lips.

Jonah turned his head, releasing Barnabas’ hand to capture his lips fully, pulling a startled laugh from Barnabas as he broke the kiss before going back for another and another and another.

Barnabas chuckled and leaned further forward, framing Jonah’s head between his forearms and the couch back. Barnabas pulled back out of the kiss with a soft sound and pressed his forehead against Jonah’s, their breath mixing in the closeness between them.

Jonah pulled at the shoulders of Barnabas’ morning gown, breaking the soft gaze he was held in, meaning to get it off the other man and succeeding, albeit clumsily. 

Jonah smirked and pulled Barnabas down onto the couch with a swift tug and swung himself around to be positioned straddling the other’s lap. 

“I see.” Barnabas laughed lightly,“Nothing can keep you from your appetites, it seems.” he rested his palms on Jonah’s hips thumbing the edges of the last remaining undergarment.

“Nothing short of death, darling, nothing short of death.” Jonah grinned and ground his hips down on Barnabas’ lap, eliciting a groan from the other man that went straight to Jonah’s cock.

Barnabas stroked his hand up Jonah’s side to his chest, thumbing a nipple before tugging at the piercing. Jonah inhaled sharply through his teeth and chuckled, before dipping and kissing the other man once more.

Jonah slid back off of Barnabas’ lap just to tug the other’s pants down, ties loose and open around his knees, just far enough to be out of the way before wrapping a hand around Barnabas’ length, stroking him to full hardness and mouthing at his shoulder, biting and sucking marks into the pale flesh, indulging in the sounds from his lover.

Barnabas stroked his hands across Jonah’s flesh, mapping him out like he needed to memorize him, like he’d never get this chance again,“You are so lovely, angel.” He murmured between gasps into Jonah’s hair. 

Jonah pressed a kiss to the mark he left and drew back to finally position himself above Barnabas’ cock, teasing himself with the head, drawing it through the slick and against his own cock a few times before working himself down inch by agonising inch until he could no longer, and just rested there. 

Barnabas let out a low sound and let his head fall back against the couch as Jonah was surely flexing around him. How did he manage to draw this gorgeous man into his orbit? It must have been some sort of blessing from above, that's all that could make this make sense.

“It was no blessing, love. I just needed some clothes.” Jonah panted out, and Barnabas realized he was babbling his thoughts and affections out loud as Jonah slowly rose off his length and dropped back down. He started riding him in earnest after a few slow slides, teeth and lips returning to the other man’s neck drawing the blood to the surface in colorful bruises. Jonah’s hands raked over Barnabas’ arms and shoulder blades, leaving pink lines in their wake from his nails. 

“You are—” Jonah panted, “ _ —such _ a good boy for me, Barny. Just letting me use you like this.” He pressed his lips loosely against one of the many marks he had left littering Barnabas’ shoulders and neck. 

Barnabas moaned at the comment, his hips stuttering up into the wet heat of Jonah,“Y-yes, angel. A-anything for you.” His hands clutched tight around Jonah’s hips as his own nails dug into the flesh leaving crescent shapes. 

The effort and pleasure mixed to make Jonah’s legs ache as he finally rested them while bearing down rolling his hips on Barnabas, pushing closer to the edge of orgasm with each stuttered roll.

Jonah came with a muffled shout as he drove his teeth into Barnabas at the junction of neck and shoulder, breaking the skin with new fangs. Blood spilled out of the corner of his mouth as he came down from his high and suckled at the wound, Barnabas still moaning beneath him and jerking his hips with the sudden pain-pleasure of Jonah’s bite spreading out in waves from the punctures with each suck, before it hit a peak and he jerked forward, pressing Jonah closer to himself as he came and spilled into the other. Barnabas rocked through his orgasm—it lasted longer than he had ever experienced, spikes of pleasure pulsed through him, and he pawed at Jonah’s back and neck to press his face deeper into where he was drawing his lifeblood out of his body.

Barnabas slumped once more, panting out his breaths suddenly tired, hands stroking along Jonah’s sides ever so gently as Jonah detached from his neck and licked the last few droplets of blood away as the wound stopped bleeding and disappeared, and rested his forehead there against the bruises in the moment of quiet.


End file.
